


You're Okay

by IAmAllYetNotAtAll



Series: Spideypool Bingo 2020 [3]
Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: A/B/O verse, Alpha Wade Wilson, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Domestic Fluff, Infertility, M/M, MCUKinkBingo, My First A/B/O fic, No specific canon, Omega Peter Parker, Spideypool - Freeform, SpideypoolBingo, They still have powers, pure fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:34:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23306137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IAmAllYetNotAtAll/pseuds/IAmAllYetNotAtAll
Summary: Wade's been distracted for a few days. Peter convinces him to talk about it, but a discussion about pups is not what he expected.Basically fluff.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Wade Wilson
Series: Spideypool Bingo 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1621408
Comments: 5
Kudos: 386





	You're Okay

**Author's Note:**

> Bingo Fills:
> 
> SpideypoolBingo: Pups  
> MCUKinkBingo: Trope: Pet Names
> 
> Please enjoy my very first ABO fic! It doesn't touch much on ABO elements, other than a potential pregnancy. I had this idea before I even got the Bingo card - I thought it would be sweet for them to have a talk about kids. Love just open and honest discussions and this is basically just fluff.
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> Trigger Warning: mentions of infertility.

Peter shoves his cold toes under his boyfriend's thigh and is met with a grunt and nothing else. They have a stack of Jackie Chan movies that they've decided to make their Saturday plans which entirely consist of pajamas, tacos, ice cream, and sell phones muted to anything but emergencies, and right now Jackie and Chris Tucker are arguing through the start of ' _Rush Hour_ '.

He wiggles his toes to dig into the meat of his thigh and there's still barely a reaction. Wade's hand drops to his ankle more instinctively than on purpose, thumb rubbing over the bone to settle him, but his eyes stay fixed forward.

He tilts his head back against the armrest of their small sofa and stares at the ceiling and asks it for strength.

Trying to get Wade to talk is like pulling teeth, sometimes. Or like convincing a child that no, they cannot take the fish to bed with them. Not that he's ever done that.

He untucks his feet and then drops them back down in Wade's lap. He sighs. He fidgets. He turns onto his side. Flicks back onto his back. Presses his heel down into his thigh.

Nada. Nothing. His mate, in every way that counts, is trapped deep in thought.

"Ba-abe."

"Mm?" Wade knows not to ignore being addressed directly, even if his mind is still sitting somewhere a thousand miles away. Peter doesn't take well to being ignored (probably a mix of the several dead parental figures taking a toll on his need for validation and the omega part of him seeking attention from his chosen alpha). 

Peter abruptly sits up. His legs are still in Wade's lap and he reaches to the side to grab the remote. The movie is muted and Wade finally looks at him.

"What'd you do that for?"

Peter leans forward to give him a quick peck to get the frown off his face and then says, "You're thinking about something and I could smell your anxiety from the washroom. Want to talk about whatever's on your mind?"

"Shit, sorry. I didn't mean to smell up the place."

"I'm worried because I love you. Talk to me, Wade."

He shifts awkwardly and averts his gaze to the frozen image of a fighting Jackie Chan.

"I've just been... thinking... about stuff. Nothing you need to worry about."

"If you want some time to think that's fine, but this feels like a longer than today thing. You've been a little off all week. Maybe talking will help."

He moves his legs so he can kneel by his side and watches his expression carefully. His normally bubbly and active partner's been something close to melancholic and pensive for days. Getting out of bed early (on the weekend, seriously?), coming home late from Sister Margaret's smelling of tequila that'll never get him drunk, and most worrisome - not taking every opportunity to be fully wrapped around his omega and Wade is known for being a very clingy alpha. Peter can't wallow in this any longer.

"I..." Wade lets out a deep sigh. He takes Peter's hand in his and gently runs his lips across his knuckles. His scent has turned calmer now that he isn't focused intently on his own thoughts and Peter's shoulders instantly relax in response. "There's something... I need to talk to you about something and I don't want to talk about it. Make sense?"

"I love you," Peter repeats.

"I love you, too," Wade says softly.

"What's going on, Wade?"

"Do you want pups?" He asks abruptly.

"Uh..." Peter freezes completely like a deer in headlights. The question has come so far out of left field. Yes, they've been together for nearly two years and live together, but Wade still won't officially mark him. Something about Peter _being sure_. (Which, he _is_ , but his alpha is stubborn and Peter knows he has a lot of needless self-esteem issues and he won't pressure him even if waiting is driving him insane.)

"During your heat last week-"

"Oh!" It hits him. "You know that's just heat talk, right? The whole point of a heat is to get pregnant so it kind of messes with my head, but that doesn't mean I'm actually ready to have pups yet. Which I'm not. Do... do _you_ want pups? Is that what this is about?" Peter's as susceptible to his body's wishes as any omega is, and knows in his heat-addled state begs for a pregnancy his birth control won't allow.

"No, not now, but... What about the future? Is that something you want? Longterm, I mean."

"I'm not sure," he says honestly. "I haven't thought much about it. We're both so busy, I can't see us making time for a little one any time soon."

"So if we were to have no pups..."

"Is that it? You don't want kids?" Peter asks, "Baby, that's all you had to say. I know it's not easy to talk about, but-"

"No!" He cuts off and is visibly frustrated. "That's not - I'm not saying I don't want kids someday. I'm asking if you'd be upset if we didn't have kids. Like - ten years from now it's still just the two of us will you start to hate me, or resent me, or-"

"What are you going on about? Wade, my alpha, you aren't making any sense. If I decide I'm ready for kids, we'll have a talk about it - like adults. I'm not going to sit on it for ten years."

He huffs, mostly to himself and his inability to communicate this properly. Peter curls one of his hands in the bottom of Wade's t-shirt, fingers brushing his stomach, and it soothes him enough to press on.

"But what if you _can't_."

"You need to give me more than that, Wade. You're trying to say something, and I'm not following. At all."

"I... can't..." he chokes out and his eyes fall to his lap. Peter takes one of his hands in both of his and squeezes gently. He manages to say, "I can't _give_ you pups."

Peter sits silent for him to continue.

"I wanted to tell you ages ago, but I kept pushing it off because I figured you'd leave when you realized how much of a fuck up I am and I wouldn't need to actually say it. But... but it's kind of looking like you're here to stay and that's the best fucking thing ever, except I can't give you pups and I... don't know what to do."

Peter inhales and exhales slowly, gathering his thoughts. Wade still won't look at him, but he knows how difficult it was for him to say the words even without the pressure of eye contact. He squeezes his hand again.

"Why do you think that?" He asks.

"I know it," Wade says sharply. Peter knows the anger isn't directed at him (it still stings, a little). "Me and Nessa tried. Even before all this," he gestures to himself and it's clear he means his time with Weapon X. "Didn't work and we went to a doc to see what was going on and looks like I'm shooting blanks. I went and got checked after and even my healing factor can't fix what was already broken."

He shrugs like it's no big deal.

"Some alpha I am, huh?" He chuckles darkly and his hand tries to draw out of Peter's grip but he holds on tight.

"Mhm," Peter hums in agreement, "Some alpha. _My_ alpha."

One hand releases Wade's and rests on his cheek, using that to pull him closer. He meets him in the middle and kisses the corner of his mouth. He presses several kisses to his skin, the ripple of scars a welcomed familiarity. Wade tilts his head just enough for their lips to meet sweetly.

"My perfect alpha," he mumbles as he draws away.

"You can't say it doesn't bother you. Nessa tried to say it was okay, but I know she would have left me eventually. If she'd had the time."

Peter pulls back completely, letting his hands fall into his lap. He waits a full minute before Wade finally looks up at him.

"Baby. Alpha. The taco to my stand. Can you imagine, just for one second, what a toddler that's a mix of our genetics would be like? I have no interest in trying to raise a pup that can climb walls and lift the fridge and who heals instantly any time they get hurt so they keep thinking they can do even worse things. That sounds like a _nightmare_. Do you know how much stress we give everyone else when we're out working together? A toddler would be like that times ten."

"I thought you said you hadn't thought about it," Wade whispers, eyeing his smile warily.

"When May asks about grandkids I can't help but think about it at least a little," he says, "I thought we'd be on the same page about all this and didn't think it was worth discussing until you at least changed your mind about the mating thing."

"So you don't want..." 

"I'm not saying no. I'm saying if we decide we want a pup of our own, then I'd prefer to adopt."

"So..." Wade says again. His expression is still wary like Peter might yell ' _sike_!' at any moment.

"So. What do you think about adoption?"

"It's... okay? I'm - I'm okay? It doesn't bother you?"

The crack in his voice shatters his heart in a million pieces. How long has his mate sat on this, wondering if he was enough for him? Peter feels every single one of his omega instincts to care for his alpha awaken and every part of him alights with that protective desire that created Spider-Man.

He tosses his leg to his other side, moving to straddle his lap. He places his hands on his shoulders and meets his hesitant gaze.

"I love you," he repeats from earlier. "You are my mate, my alpha. With or without pups I'm not going anywhere, okay? You are exactly who I'm meant to be with - I could never ask for anything better; there is no better."

"I love you, too."

The scent that's usually all musk, pine and gunpowder and leather, the strong alpha pheromones that make his knees week, is still too sad for his taste. He feels it in the tense shoulders, sees it in the slight downturn of his lips. If only it were so simple as kissing it away.

"I was raised by May. There's zero shared DNA between us, but that doesn't make her any less my aunt. DNA means literally nothing to me. What I want most is you; exactly the way you are."

His alpha starts to cry and twists his shirt in a strong grip for comfort. He knows the barrier is finally broken. He wraps his arms around his shoulders and Wade burrows his face into his neck as if to hide the display of emotion. He strokes his smooth head and kisses the parts of his face he can reach. As hard as it is, he waits him out. There's nothing he can say right now to make this better, his mate only needs some time to process.

It's a few minutes later, certainly more than a few to be honest, when Wade pulls back. His face is splotchy red, some of the scars appearing angrier than usual. Peter leans down to kiss the skin beneath his eyes, lips coming away with a hint of salt. He rests his forehead against his mate's and inhales the scent of tears and calm. A hint of pine. He pecks his lips. Once. Twice. On the third, Wade's grip loosens and his shoulders visibly relax.

"There's my alpha," he whispers.

"Sorry," Wade mumbles, eyes meeting his and the familiar sparkle is returning.

"It's okay. It's okay."

"You really won't mind adopting?"

"Not at all, Wade. It's what I want. Besides, as nice as the idea is of carrying around your pup, Spider-Man isn't going on a nine month leave any time soon."

Truthfully, and theoretically, Peter should be more worried about Wade's thoughts about adoption. Except he's really not. It's an outdated ideology that alphas won't care for pups that aren't their own, and some alphas to this day will stick to it out of... spite? Some sick sense of superiority over those who've had previous relationships? Peter won't pretend to understand. Many have moved on from it, too, and adoption is much more widely accepted.

Wade's never had that gross, creepy possessive behaviour that a lot of alphas pride themselves on. A gentle hand on the waist at the supermarket is only to keep them from wandering away from each other (which happens more often than it should), a bit of butt smacking in the privacy of their own home or while swinging through the city and Wade decides to sneak a grope when no one can see. He never steps into a battle that isn't his own. Never for a moment has Peter ever been made to feel any less than Wade's equal.

And on the other hand, although he has his fair share of insecurities, taking in a pup that isn't his biologically won't be a cause for it. He loves sporadically - he'd taken to May instantly, not so much with Tony, but it's unconditional once it's earned. 

"I... kind of thought this would go worse."

"You often do," Peter teases. "Take me to bed, alpha."

"Hell yeah."

\---

"Shit."

"Mm?"

"I should let Dr. Banner know the results on the birth control need to be scrapped."

"Mm?"

"We thought they were working with my metabolism because we've been through so many heats together."

"... you've been on experimental birth control this whole time? What if it didn't work?"

"We would have figured it out."

"You're a dumbass genius, you know that?"

"... yeah."

**Author's Note:**

> Cheers :)
> 
> One of my prompts is AU: Hogwarts, and let me tell you. I have way too many ideas. I may not even have it written out before the Bingo is done, but it's happening.


End file.
